


Crashing into Place

by EllieL



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: AU, Amnesia, Angst, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Dynamics, Injury, Memory, Memory Loss, Post-RotJ, Recovery, Space fight, married, remembering, space ship crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieL/pseuds/EllieL
Summary: Approximately nine years after ROTJ, Han is on a mission to the edge of Wild Space when his ship is shot down, throwing his family into chaos.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> HanxLeia, non-Disney/EU/whatever canon. I’m off in my own little AU galaxy here.

He adjusted the yaw and scanned the space around them. There were at least two more hostile fighters zipping around his command shuttle, more nimble but far less experienced than the man at the helm.

 

Shots flashed across dark space, going wide, fading off into nothingness, past the far edge of the squadron. Their x-wings rearranged formation, swinging around to flank.

 

“You okay out there Gold 3?”

 

Static crackled over the short wave relay, then, “Watch your starboard.”

 

Instinctively, he rolled to starboard, somersaulting past the incoming fighter. Stars spun across the viewport and the hazy lavender atmosphere of Chio glowed in the periphery. Laser shots flared against the shields, but they held, and Gold 6 handily picked off the fighter in a shower of sparks.

 

“There’s just one more. I’ll take care of him. Make the jump, I’ll follow you after I clean this up.”

 

To port, he saw the flicker of the remaining X-wings massing into travel formation. Behind them came the last fighter, and he deftly maneuvered to draw it away from the smaller ships. The play worked, and it tailed him towards the nearby moon as he redirected power to the aft shields and guns. 

 

A few shots glanced off the shields, rocking the shuttle a bit but doing no harm.

 

The gunner got off a few shots, but they barely gazed the fighter, and it swung across the space behind them, moving wide, just out of range. He tried to flip back behind, but this ship just wasn’t as nimble as the fighter, and barely succeeded in bringing it back into firing range. The gunner got off a better shot this time, though.

 

But instead of flaring and imploding, the pilot managed a last ditch kamikaze mission, aimed straight at them. He took evasive maneuvers, but it happened too quickly to  completely avoid collision. The ship bucked wildly upon impact, metal and plastene squealing and straining. Warning sirens blared, red lights flashing in the cockpit. All shields were down and the acrid smell of a chemical leak filled the ship.

 

“Mayday mayday. Republic command shuttle Iveston. Mayday mayday. Incoming to Chio, this is Republic command shuttle Iveston.”

 

He activated the distress beacon, and shifted all his concentration and considerable experience to getting them within atmospheric range of the nearby moon. If only they could get into the atmosphere, they might just stand a chance. He throttled the accelerator and aimed for the bright looming moon.

 

More warning klaxons blared, and the ship shuddered, responding sluggishly to controls and stuttering in flight. For a moment, it seemed motionless, then jerked wildly to port, towards Chio, gravity taking hold and atmosphere flaring bright in the viewport. The ship felt suddenly warmer.

 

“Mayday mayday, this is Republic command shuttle Iveston. General Solo requesting emergency clearance. Mayday—”

 

The shriek of the hull breach warning drowned out anything else he might have tried to say, and the ship shook violently. His head slammed back against the seat, and the ship entered the mesosphere of the moon as he lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May the 4th Be With You! Celebrating with the first full chapter of this :)

Leia adjusted the translation earpiece, which was growing uncomfortable after hours of being tucked into her ear. Perhaps a few words were lost, but at this point in the hearing it was clear that they were meaningless anyway—no progress was being made this afternoon. As she waited for the senator to finish his statement, she took drink of water, noting that her commlink was flashing with incoming notifications. She couldn’t answer it, but it was synced to her datapad, and perhaps she could surreptitiously check the messages and make it look like she was fact checking the wildly erroneous statistics being quoted at her.

 

She tapped a few keys, and watched in frustration as a dozen messages from her office, the Chief of State’s office, and the Council secretary populated the screen. Apparently she had yet another meeting to look forward to when this hearing ended.

 

“Madam Secretary?”

 

It hadn’t been obvious that there was any kind question in the five minute long rambling statement by the senator, but apparently a response was still expected. She tapped the datapad a few more times, clearing the messages, then cleared her throat.

 

“I disagree with those statistics, Senator Herrik. I’m gathering the most recently cited information we have for you, and will provide it to you, and submit it for the record.”

 

At the dais, a gavel rapped sharply. “Time, Senator. We now turn to the senator from Ralltiir.”

 

Leia disguised her sigh as a cough, and took another drink of water as the next senator struggled with their microphone. It was going to be a very long hearing.

 

Three senators worth of poorly articulated non-questions later, her junior aide reached up to the table with a note. She frowned down at it, unfolding it to read in between the questions.

 

She could feel the blood drain from her face as she read it, but if the committee members in front of her noticed, they gave no indication.  

 

_ Full Council meeting convening at 1630 to update on Wildling Mission _ .

 

Han’s current mission, to the edge of Wild Space. The Council never met on routine missions, not unless something extraordinary had happened, and even then it was most often just the relevant Secretaries. She looked at her chrono—1417. 

 

Activating the screen of her datapad again, she checked to see if there were any more specific messages. As she was doing so, she saw an aide approaching the committee chair and whisper something.

 

When Senator Logar finished her time, Chair Griegg tapped the gavel once more. “Unfortunately it appears a Council meeting will take Madam Secretary away from us at 1600. If members could limit their queries to three minutes rather than five, we will try to get through all committee members prior to that time.”

 

She did allow herself a small sigh then.

 

“Would you like a five minute break before we continue, Madam?”

 

“If I may, Chair.” 

 

She snagged her comm, and headed to the witness room to make a few quick calls. There was no information on Han’s mission, but her intel deputy, Mena, was monitoring the situation and promised to update her if anything came in. Before heading back to the hearing, she grabbed a cup of instant kaffe.

 

*

 

There were no substantial updates from Mena during the last portion of the hearing, only a brief one page update for her to read on the way to the Council meeting so she wouldn’t be going in totally blind. Only some of their fighter pilots had returned to the rendezvous point, and at least one ship had crashed.

 

It was unusual to have a crash in a space firefight; usually fighters were totally destroyed, and fatalities were instant. It piqued her curiosity, and wondered what about the situation merited a full meeting. It should have been a military and state matter.

 

Leia was the last to arrive at the meeting, and the room quieted as everyone turned to watch her enter the room.

 

“Apologies, I was at the Senate hearing—“

 

“Secretary, were you not notified?”

 

She took her seat at the table, just to the left of Mon Mothma. “I was notified of this meeting regarding the Wildling mission. I presumed we would be briefed here on a need to know basis.” 

 

That was standard procedure with military missions; very few were privileged with full mission information, for myriad reasons, including deniability. Han was careful about what he told her at home, too, and hadn’t said much when she’d spoken to him last night, and she hadn’t asked. All her updates on the mission had come through Ravitch.

 

General Dodonna, to the right of the Chief of State, cleared his throat. “Initial reports from Ambassador Ravitch of interactions with the Wild Space Alliance appeared positive, and they were working with General Solo and Gold Squadron on military maneuvers for over a week.  For reasons currently unclear, the situation between their members soured in the course of the interactions and what was to be a security and training mission suddenly became a defensive situation.”

 

There were murmurs around the table; it had been a somewhat controversial mission to begin with, as many were still skeptical of the loyalties of the Wild Spacers despite previous treaties. But a diplomatic emissary and some military training had seemed welcomed. Early reports had been positive, and there had already been talks of sending a larger trade delegation.

 

With a rap of his knuckles on the table, Dodonna hushed the group and continued. “We are still debriefing members of Gold Squadron who made the jump to the Rim rendezvous point. Several members of the squadron did not return, and reports from those who did indicate that the command shuttle, carrying Ambassador Ravitch and piloted by General Solo, was hit and may have crashed on Chio. We are working with Chionians to confirm.”

 

Leia bit the inside of her cheek, schooling her face to remain neutral. Her ambassador and her husband, both believed lost. Why hadn’t she been pulled out of the hearing  _ immediately _ upon receipt of this information? The mission was at least partially her jurisdiction, and she should have been receiving regular updates on the developing situation. But before she could react, another voice spoke.

 

“Chio is an independant ally, they have their own treaties with us,” pointed out Secretary N’kosa.

 

“Yes, and they’re fully cooperating in rescue and recovery. We believe there are two members of Gold who did not make the jump to the rendezvous on planet working with them.” 

 

“Believe?” Leia’s tone was curious, cautious. “We haven’t confirmed their whereabouts?”

 

“Chionian officials are supposed to be contacting us within the hour with an update and more solid information. But we felt it best to bring everyone in on this now.”

 

Councillor Palaxa cleared his throat. “Did we all need brought in on this, now? Your initial information indicates that this was an internal conflict between members of the Wild Space Alliance, not a conflict with the Republic.”

 

Dodonna frowned. “It is a matter of Council concern if one of our Ambassadors and one of our Generals have been shot down by them. We’ll have to consider--”

 

With a raised palm, Mon Mothma silenced the general. “Palaxa may be right, in that we are getting ahead of ourselves. Without further information regarding what has happened and why, we cannot make any decisions. But we may want to have options ready. Immediate action may be required.”

 

“Precisely, Madam Chief of State.” Dodonna nodded.

 

Leia allowed herself a frown then. Not at options--she understood having response options. But at the idea of Han being  _ shot down _ . The implications of that were clear enough. There was only one response she could formulate to that, and it took all her self control to think about it. As she sat silently, contemplating, there were whispers around the table, snatches of action plans and profanity and even a bit of wild gesticulation.

 

Then the communications array lit up like a firework. 

 

“We’ve got the Chionian Foreign Secretary on comm line 2,” announced an aide.

 

The Council was silent as they looked around the table, then all eyes fell on Mon Mothma.

 

“Connect us, please.”

 

A speaker crackled to life, with a burst of feedback and static, before settling in to a low hum. Then, a voice came across the line, wavering in signal strength but clear.

 

“Madam Chief of State, members of the Republic Council, I am Ged Gaus, Foreign Secretary of Chio.”

 

“Thank you for contacting us so promptly, Secretary Gaus. What can you tell us?” Mothma’s voice was calm and steady.

 

Gaus cleared her throat. “At approximately 1335 Galactic Standard Time, Chio airspace control received a mayday signal from a ship identifying itself as the Iveston, a command shuttle of the Republic. We had been monitoring a conflict between members of Wild Space factions over our planet, so we were ready and able to follow the ship as it entered our air space. After entering our atmosphere, there were no additional transmissions from the Iveston. The ship went down in a remote polar area, and we responded as quickly as possible. As we were launching our response team, we were contacted by two pilots identifying themselves as Commander Tulven and Lieutenant Droct of the Republic, requesting permission to assist in crash response. We granted them landing clearances and sent them out with the secondary response shuttle.”

 

She paused, and the council room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Dodonna finally broke the silence.

 

“Have your first responders reached the shuttle?”

 

“Yes, they reported back to us just moments ago,” Gaus nodded. “Your pilots informed us that there would have been five aboard the shuttle. Reports are of two fatalities, three unresponsive and in critical condition. I don’t have identification at this point. They’re on their way back to a field medical station at Qache, where they will be met by the secondary response team, with your pilots. We should have more information for you after that.”

 

“Thank you, Secretary Gaus. Please keep us updated.”

 

Leia sat back in her seat, covering her mouth with her hand. He had to have survived. Surely she would have known if he hadn’t, she would have  _ felt _ it, felt something.  _ Jaina _ would have felt something, and she’d have gotten a panicked call about their distraught daughter. She had to believe that.

 

*

 

The meeting broke up quickly after that. Even after most of the Council members had filed out, Leia remained in her seat, deciding her next move. Part of her wanted to race down to the Falcon and head straight to Chio; part of her wanted to sit right here until the update call came in. 

 

What she did was go home to see her daughter, trying to decide as she went whether or not to tell her anything just yet. At six, it was a delicate balance of what she could sense and what she could understand. As she reached the front door, she decided to wait to tell her what had happened until she knew more about what had actually occurred. She didn’t want to upset her unncessarily, and she felt so certain that he was alive.

 

When she entered the door, she barely made it two meters before being greeted with a shriek and arms around her waist. She took a deep breath, quieted her mind as much as she could, and returned the hug.

 

“Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?”

 

“Oh, Mama, we learned about flowers! Come see what I planted!”

 

She always enjoyed seeing what her daughter was learning, and actually looked forward to helping with homework, but never had she been happier for the distraction of it than at that moment. As she followed Jaina into the living room, she tried to shed her worries for the time being, and concentrate on the happy girl in front of her. If something was wrong, she would know, wouldn’t be so effervescent. 

 

But she couldn’t help the worry gnawing at her, growing as the hours slipped by without an update. She kept her comm close by for the rest of the evening, desperate for more information.

 


	3. Chapter 2

It was late when the call came through from Dodonna on her personal comm line. The Chionians had been efficient in their response, and were in touch as rapidly with Republic officials as cross-galactic communications allowed. Unfortunately, Ambassador Ravitch and one of the gunners had died on impact; Han, his copilot, and the second gunner were all unconscious and critical. 

 

She’d been packing a bag so she could leave as soon as she got word, but Dodonna stopped her.

 

“Han is critical but stabilizing, as is Winfeth. Tulven is already working on coordinating their transport back to Chandrila once they’re both stable. They’re not sure Ixia is going to make it, so Droct is staying with her on Chio.”

 

“How soon?”

 

“It’s going to take a day or two for them to stabilize, and arrange appropriate medical transport.  It’ll give them both time for additional treatment and stabilization before travel, too. But he’ll be back before you could make it there, if that’s your thinking.”

 

She sighed, resting her forehead on her palm. “Thank you, Jan. I am working from home tomorrow, but I’ll be at the afternoon Council meeting to present the diplomatic responses. We can’t let Ravitch’s death go unanswered.”

 

“If I find out more before then, you’ll be the first to know. Take care.”

 

Jaina was already asleep. Leia knew sleep would not be likely to find her tonight, and she sat at her desk, staring at the dark screen of her computer terminal for a long time. It was very late before she took herself to bed, to  _ their _ bed, and trusted herself enough to open herself up to the Force, and reach out for Han. 

 

She knew his presence even better than Jaina, better than Luke, even though it was nowhere near as strong as theirs. It was a recognition borne of nearly a decade together, of love and comfort and knowing him almost as well as she knew herself. But he was so faint, and so far away that it taxed skills she didn’t practice often enough.

 

He was there though, at the periphery of her perception. She could just sense him, the sharp edge of his pain, so all-encompassing. It was a test of her skill to try reaching out, so far, to send an idea of love and comfort to him. She was fairly certain her effort was in vain, but the attempt heartened her, just sensing him eased her anxiety. Tomorrow--and every day until he returned--she would make time to reach out to him again, and reach out to Luke for guidance on doing more. 

 

And tomorrow she would also reach out to Chewie, who she was certain would want to curtail his visit home to Kashyyyk to see Han. He would want his friend at his side, she was sure, if for no other reason than that Han would want someone here to support  _ her _ . Tasks for the following day were already adding up. 

 

So much to do, so much to worry about, and so little inclination to sleep. Dimming the lights further, she lay back, tried to regulate her breathing, and eventually drifted into a fitful, restless slumber.

 

*

 

In the morning, there were a slew of messages awaiting her. Blessedly one of them was an actual medical report on Han’s condition, which she was able to read before Jaina woke. The situation was dire but not immediately life-threatening. The fractures and cuts she didn’t concern herself with; those she knew might not be pleasant but could be healed. What worried her was his unconscious, unresponsive state. Those injuries were harder to predict the outcomes of, to know what kind of damage had been done. Currently, there was too much swelling in his brain to know.

 

She knew she would have to tell Jaina this morning, and let her stay home from primary with her if she wanted. Leia might prefer if she stayed home, just to have her nearby. In her mind, she tumbled over the known facts, sorting out what to tell their daughter; she’d decided to have the conversation first thing. She steeled herself as she went to awaken her daughter.

 

That she was waking her was not unusual, though it was more often Han than Leia, as she frequently had early meetings that had her in the office before the young girl needed to be up. But she loved their mornings together, as it was often the sign of a day off work and the chance to prepare something elaborate for breakfast. That was not the case today, as she felt it unlikely either of them would be in the mood for pancakes.

 

“Morning sleepyhead.”

 

Jaina twisted deeper into the covers, burying herself. Leia sat on the edge of the bed, and took a deep breath before giving the blanket a tug.

 

“We need to have a little talk this morning, Jai.”

 

“I don’t wanna. Wanna sleep.” She sounded so like Han as she rolled over again, smushing her face into the pillow.

 

“You can go back to sleep after we talk, if you want to.” She doubted it would be the case, and as Jaina rolled over and squinted at her, she had the feeling the girl didn’t either. 

 

With a huff, Jaina flopped over onto her back and stared up at her mother. “I’m awake.”

 

“Thank you.” Leia took a deep breath, and as she did so, she saw Jaina eyes flicker with awareness of her mother’s turbulent emotional state, and suddenly looked more alert. “You know your dad has been away on a mission to help train beings who live in Wild Space how to fly better.”

 

Jaina nodded, solemn, listening. In that moment, she looked older than her six years.

 

“Last night we found out that there was an accident. Han was flying the command shuttle, and it crashed. He’s hurt.”

 

Jaina nodded again, eyes wide, but looking past Leia, beyond the room. It was quiet for a minute between them.

 

“He’s asleep.” She sounded so sure, so calm, calmer than Leia expected or felt herself.

 

“He’s unconscious. You can sense him?” Leia was curious; she and Luke had done some basic training with Jaina, and she tried to practice simple skills with her, but they’d decided not to push her and allow her talents to develop naturally. Her inclinations had seemed more empathetic like Leia’s, rather than the physical talents manifested by Luke.

 

“Yes. I can always find Daddy and you. And Uncle Luke.”

 

That felt immensely reassuring, and Leia allowed herself to relax just a bit. “I’m glad you can always find us when you need us. Can he feel you?” That might have been asking too much of a child, but she was curious and hopeful; she knew Han could feel her, when she wanted him to.

 

Jaina shrugged a bit, shifting the blankets around her. “Think so. Only a little though, he’s no good with the Force.”

That made her laugh a little, for the first time in what felt like ages, though it had probably just been yesterday morning. “No he’s not, but he likes seeing you use it. Remember how much he liked you flying that model of the Falcon around the living room?”

 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Is he in medical?”

 

“He is. Not here though. On a moon called Chio.”

 

“When’s he coming home? I miss him.”

 

“I miss him too. We’re working to arrange a medical transport home for him. He’ll be back here soon, but probably still in the med center.”

 

“When’s soon? Maybe I can tell him.”

 

“I don’t know yet. We’ll probably find out later today. Do you want to stay home with me today, so you can try to tell him when we know?”

 

“Yes please.”

 

“Do you want to go back to sleep now, or come have breakfast with me?”

 

Jaina bit her lip, then nodded. “Breakfast.”

 

Leia hugged her just a little tighter than usual as she got out of bed, and said a little prayer of thanks to the goddess for the resilience of children. She hoped for a bit of that resilience herself, today.

 

*

 

It was nearly lunchtime before another official update arrived, but it was a positive one. Both Han and his copilot, Winfeth, had been declared stable, and Tulven had arranged a medical transport for the following morning. They would be home in six days. It seemed interminable, but at least it was something positive to carry her through the afternoon council meeting. Tulven would be conferencing in to provide a debriefing on what had led up to the skirmish and crash, which might provide some answers, and hopefully a clearer path forwards in responding to the incident. At this point, it was still being referred to as an “accident” in official reports, and the press was just starting to dig into it, slow in their response to news from so far away; the story would blow up once they realized who had been involved, and that an ambassador had been killed.

 

Jaina had sighed dramatically at the news that her father would not be returning for six days, and flung herself down on the couch. But then she looked over at her mother and announced, “I’ll tell him we’re waiting for him. Maybe he can wake up and fly the ship faster. He always gets home faster than he says.”

 

She got the same distant look Leia often got when using the Force, and she came to sit next to her daughter on the couch, waiting. Eventually, Jaina blinked, then frowned.

 

“What’s wrong, Jai?”

 

Jaina sat up and scooted closer to her mother. “I can feel him, and he’s asleep. But I don’t think he can hear me.”

 

Leia wrapped her arm around her daughter. “He has a head injury, and he’s unconscious, which is different than just  _ asleep _ . So it might feel like he can’t hear you, but you know he’s there, and that he’s coming back. You can reach out to him any time while he’s on his way home. He’d like that.”

 

She just bit her lip and nodded, looking thoughtful.

 

“I have to go to Council. Do you want to come to my office and visit with Esih while I’m there?”

 

It seemed so routine, packing them up to go to her offices. It took less now than it had when she was younger; there were fewer distractions required now that Jaina had started reading and drawing, which could be entertained with a single datapad. The girl also enjoyed carrying her own small bag--”just like yours, Mama!”--so Leia had only her own briefcase to carry, and her daughter’s hand to hold. In the coming days, she knew she would be taking a great deal of comfort in that small hand.

 

*

 

All reports during the medical transport back from Chio were the same--stable but unconscious. There was no change in Han’s condition, and while he was monitored, no additional efforts were made to alter that status. It had frustrated Jaina, this inability to connect in a reassuring way to her father; it had worried Leia on a deeper level, knowing that every day that passed where he remained unconscious was a greater chance of some deeper issue, some significant damage.

 

She debated over whether to take Jaina to the medical center on the night of Han’s return. On one hand, she understood how badly the girl wanted to see her father, but on the other, Leia wanted to be able to have a frank discussion with the doctors about his status, and process her feelings alone. There would be tests to discuss, care plans to consider, perhaps difficult choices to make.

 

Ultimately, she decided to leave Jaina at home for his arrival at the medical center. Only the presence of Chewbacca there to keep her company and watch over her was enough to prevent a full-fledged tantrum. But she also seemed to sense her mother’s distress as much as she’d been able to discern her father’s presence, so with a tearful hug, she’d watched Leia leave for the med center.

 

She’d wanted to meet his return flight at the port, but the patient transfer was being made in low orbit and then shuttling both men directly down to the med center. Reluctantly, she waited at the trauma ward, using every meditative skill Luke had ever taught her to calm her jangling nerves and to feel his presence as he was gradually moved closer to her. Over the last week she’d become more keenly aware of his presence in the Force than ever, taking what small solace she could in knowing he was  _ there _ , even if he lacked the usual vibrancy and passion she’d always sensed from him.

 

The doctors assessed him first upon his arrival, then briefed her, before she was allowed in to see him, which did not alleviate her worry. Vitals were normalized, cranial swelling had decreased. Brain scans and other tests would be run first thing in the morning. But his unconsciousness continued, as it had since his initial rescue.

 

When she finally got to Han’s room, Leia was glad she’d made the choice to leave their daughter at home. Alone with his pale, unresponsive form, tangled with IV lines and oxygen tubes and bandages, she sank into the bedside chair and let her tears fall, a week’s worth of love and worry finally spilling over. She had struggled all week to control her emotions, remaining strong publicly as the government responded to the incident, and at home so as not alarm an increasingly anxious Jaina. Now that he was here with her again, she allowed herself the tears, gave herself the safe space with him that he always gave her.

 

He was back, yes, and stable, but the doctors would have no more answers until they ran more advanced testing tomorrow. The reassurances of medical professionals that sometimes the body just needed time to heal itself fell on deaf ears; she couldn't shake the feeling that something more was wrong.

 

She’d delegated her work to several assistant secretaries for the next week, her schedule cleared so that she could spend every moment possible here with him. A plan had already been worked out with Chewie, so that one of them would always be here with him, keeping him company. Leia leaned forward in the chair by his bed, resting her head on the mattress near his hip, and taking his bandaged hand in her own. At least he was back with her once more, and she finally felt as if she was doing something, even if right now it was as simple as being here for him.


	4. Chapter 3

The first time his eyes flickered open, the room was dim and quiet. All he was aware of was his pain--his legs hurt, his wrist hurt, his jaw ached, and he had the worst headache of his life. Even the subdued light of the room sent a searing pain through his head. If he’d been able, he’d have cried out in misery, but his whole face hurt and he knew the effort would only aggravate the throbbing inside his skull and the pain radiating through in his ribs with each breath. 

 

He didn’t know where he was or what had happened to him.

 

But almost immediately he saw her, sitting next to his bed, head resting on the bed by his thigh, sound asleep. Relief washed over him, easing every ache in his body. If Leia was here, he was safe. It didn’t matter where  _ here _ was, he knew wherever she was, he would be all right.

 

Everything hurt too much to contemplate moving, so he didn’t attempt to wake her, just let his eyes fall closed, and fell back into a hazy unconsciousness.

 

*

 

The second time his eyes opened, the room was brighter and Leia was awake beside him. Immediately noticing his wakefulness, she graced him with a bright smile. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to merit that smile but he tried to return it, then grimaced instead. His head still hurt, and his skin felt tight and raw.

 

“Leia.” His voice was hoarse and garbled by pain in his jaw.

 

Her hand wrapped firmly around his bicep, gave him a light squeeze. “Han. You’re awake.”

 

“Mmm, yeah?” He wasn’t quite sure he was  _ awake _ , merely no longer unconscious. 

 

With effort, he tore his eyes from her and assessed himself, splayed in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around his right hand and his left leg in an old-fashioned plaster cast. Those were a rarity these days; what could have led to that being placed on his leg? He didn’t remember any blows to his legs.

 

“How long?” He turned his gaze back to her, met her worried eyes.

 

“Two weeks,” she nearly sobbed. 

 

“So fast?” It seemed unfathomable she’d gotten to him so quickly, gotten him back and gotten him to a hospital. Good, it was good, back so quickly and safe with her. Even if he felt like he’d been trampled by a bantha.

 

He let himself fall back into darkness, missing the look of deep concern on her face.

 

*

 

The third time his eyes opened, he was not alone, but also not with Leia. Instead, a child, a small girl, sat in the chair opposite from where Leia had been before. She seemed unaware of his rousing. Instead, her attention was focused on the cast on his leg, where she was drawing with a green marker. He could see pink stars and purple planets and the silvery outline of something that bore a vague resemblance to a YT1300. Now, she appeared to be growing a wroshyr tree up the outside of his calf, branches curving across his shin and up towards his plaster-encased knee.

 

“Hey, what’re ya doing?”

 

The girl didn’t seem to think him rude or find it an abrupt question. Rather, she looked up at him with Leia’s dark kaffe eyes and his crooked grin, delight on her face. “Drawing Chewie’s tree!”

 

None of it seemed odd to her, though it made no sense at all to him. He watched the girl, focused and careful as she worked on her art, occasionally stealing glances up at him. 

 

Soon he drifted off again.

 

*

 

He took his time assessing the situation before even opening his eyes the next time he woke. There was the quiet, steady beep and hum of medical equipment, oxygen under his nose and an IV in his arm. He was in significantly less pain than the first time he awoke, but he was still very aware of a plethora of injuries. There were no voices, but there was the occasional quiet tapping of datapad keys nearby.

 

Slowly, he let his eyes flutter open, adjusting to the brightness of the room. Leia was once again in the bedside chair, datapad in hand. She didn’t look particularly focused, but she did look disheveled and stressed. Her braids were loose, wispy tendrils escaping around her face, and there were dark circles under her eyes. But she was here, with him, had him back, had him safe. He was glad she wasn’t in a hospital bed, too.

 

He had a few minutes of silently watching her before she looked up at him and realized he was awake. That brilliant smile lit her face again, and suddenly all that he could see was love, the stress and worry momentarily banished.

 

“Han. How’re you feeling?”

 

Tentatively, he tried shifting his body a little, feeling his extremities. “Little better, I think. Less like I got run over by a bantha and more like I got tackled by a Wookie.”

 

“That’s progress.” Still that smile, that gorgeous smile. “We’ve been so worried about you.” She took his hand carefully, threading her fingers through his where she could, around the edges of bandages. 

 

“You’ve been here. I’ve seen you.” He gave her hand a little squeeze, as much as he could manage with it bandaged. It was worth the effort though, to see her eyes light up and feel her fingers tighten around his.

 

“As much as I could be. Chewie’s been here too, but he said you’ve been asleep while he’s been with you.”

 

He nodded carefully, assessing the feel of his head as he did so. It all felt a little hungover--head injury, it had to be a head injury making him feel this way.

 

“Do you remember what happened?”

 

“Not after. I remember before.” He looked at her, met her eyes, wanted her to know he remembered what she’d said. “Everything happened so fast, though. One minute I was looking at you, and the next, everything stopped.”

 

Her head tilted to the side, and her eyes narrowed. The smile was gone, her lips a tight narrow line. “Looking at me?”

 

He swallowed roughly. “Yeah. You’re the last thing I remember.”

 

“The last thing you remember is me?” She’d gone very still, was speaking very precisely, and it worried him. Precise, still Leia usually meant he was in trouble. He wasn’t quite sure why, as she’d seemed so delighted with him mere moments ago.

 

“Yeah.” He thought as he glanced around the room, searching for pieces to put together. “Where are we?”

 

Leia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Chandrila. Hanna City.”

 

His brow furrowed, and he looked around the room again, slower. “Chandrila? Why?”

 

“We live here.” Her words were careful, neutral.

 

His whole face went slack, then scrunched in confusion. They were living here, and apparently under their own names; they’d been undercover enough together to know to share false identities immediately. So they were known here, which meant Chandrila was safe for them, as themselves. So the Empire wasn’t in charge here any more, which was more stunning than a two week rescue. His head was hurting again, trying to wrap his mind around all of it.

 

“You said before it was two weeks since I got frozen on Bespin. How’d you take over Chandrila  _ and _ get me back, in just two weeks?”

 

“Oh, no. I meant--” She broke off, taking a deep breath, then reaching for a button beside the bed. “I’m going to page for the doctor, and then try to explain, all right?”

 

There was no choice but to nod. Some kind of explanation was definitely required, even if it was making his head spin again. The look of panic on her face wasn’t helping. Leia didn’t panic.

 

She sat back, and seemed to gather herself, then leaned forward again, taking his hand in both of hers. “The last thing you remember is the carbon freeze chamber on Bespin.” 

 

He nodded, and she continued, “But that happened ten years ago, Han. It’s not what I meant when I asked what happened. We saved you then--you were in carbonite for six months. Since then so much has happened. It’s been a very good ten years, I promise.” She squeezed his hand, brought it up to cautiously graze his knuckles with a kiss.

 

He struggled to wrap his aching brain around it, couldn't find words even though his lips tried to.

 

“But what happened two weeks ago was a crash. You were piloting a ship that came under attack, crashed, and somehow three of you survived. You’ve been in a coma for two weeks.”

 

“Kriff. What?  _ Fuck _ .”

 

It felt as if he sunk deeper into the bed then, as if he’d crashed down into a reality he had no awareness of. He racked his memory, tried to recall anything beyond her terrified face as she told him she loved him. She was staring at him now with a similar loving terror in her eyes and whatever else had happened, that she still loved him was comforting. It was one thing he could hold on to.

 

“You still love me?” He tried to muster the appropriate smirk, but it came out needier than he would have liked. It was all too overwhelming, and he’d like the assurance.

 

“I love you even more now.” She was smiling again, but it wasn’t that brilliant bright smile from earlier. There was something sad lingering in her eyes.

 

He was more worried seeing that sadness than he had been awaking injured and in pain. Those he knew how to deal with; this was something else entirely, something he had no idea how to begin to comprehend. 

 

_Ten_ _years_.

 

A knock sounded at the door, announcing the arrival of the doctor.

 

“Han! Good to see you alert. How are you feeling this afternoon?” The doctor was about Leia’s age, with iridescent skin and electric blue hair twisted back in a simple knot. She seemed familiar with him, but he couldn’t recall seeing her before.

 

“I guess, considering, I’m not too bad physically. But then I was talkin’ with Leia, and doc...” he waved his good hand at Leia, then at the doctor, noticing for the first time the simple gold band on his ring finger. So he’d married her--at least he’d done something right.

 

“Dr. Bruenig. Do you remember me?” The doctor shared a quick look with Leia, then met his eyes again, stepping to the other side of the bed.

 

He stared at her for what felt like a long time, trying to remember her, but eventually shook his head and looked over to Leia instead. “No.”

 

“Can you look up at me, please?” Her voice was calm, and she had a small light that she was shining right at him. He squinted, then blinked, but did as she asked, as she examined his eyes. Then she turned the light off and stepped back, reaching for the datapad with his chart at the end of the bed. After reading quietly for a moment and making a few notations of her own, she nodded.

 

“I’ve been your family doctor for five years, Han. I know you and Leia both, and am pleased to see you awake and responsive. In addition to other injuries, you experienced some extremely severe head trauma in your ship crash, and that can wreak havoc on the mind.” She replaced the datapad at the foot of the bed, then sat in the chair opposite to Leia, sharing a look with her before continuing. 

 

“I’d be more shocked if there weren’t some cognitive side effects. That you are as apparently aware and responsive as you are now, after a little over two weeks unconscious, is  _ good _ news. Memory loss is not unusual, and often as the brain recovers, those memories return. Sometimes not those immediately surrounding the trauma, but you may not want to remember that anyway--it’s the brain’s way of protecting you.”

 

He nodded, understanding what she was saying. But understanding it and being reassured by it were two different things, and he was decidedly  _ not _ reassured. Brain damage and memory loss seemed pretty damned bad to him. Ten years missing, apparently a marriage--and that girl, there was a girl in here, making those doodles on his cast--she had to be his, theirs? They had a kid he wasn’t remembering? Monitors started to beep beside him as his heart rate and respiration increased.

 

Leia gripped his hand with what he guessed was meant to be reassurance, but as he looked at her, he could only wonder what he wasn’t remembering of their life together. It must be a good life, she was sitting here with him, looking so worried, letting their kid happily draw on him, holding his hand in the middle of the night.

 

“It’s all right, Han. Take a few long, slow breaths. It can be disorienting to realize memories are missing, but as I said, it is unusual for them not to return in time. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

 

“Her,” he said, tilting his head towards Leia. “Her watching as they froze me in the carbonite.”

 

Dr. Bruenig did look concerned at that, and reached for the datapad again.

 

“That was ten years ago,” clarified Leia with a little sigh. Han wasn’t sure if the clarification was meant for himself or the doctor.

 

“Right, right,” Bruenig muttered, reading over his information again. “I want to reiterate that memory loss following head trauma is not unusual, and you experienced some very severe trauma. I want to run some more tests though, to evaluate you now that you're awake and responsive.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” He shrugged—it’s not as if he had a choice, he was stuck here, unable to walk, with no idea where he apparently lived, or about anything else in his life, including his marriage and maybe a child.

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

He tried to take a deep breath and get his racing heart under control. Tests it was. Maybe they’d help him remember something about his life.

 


	5. Chapter 4

Tests over the next two days didn’t help him remember anything faster, or anything at all. Instead, they left him drained and further stressed. The ones that weren’t scans seemed silly, word games and matching pictures and reciting his name and date of birth. None of that told him what he needed to know, and Leia, the person who  _ could _ tell him, used the time to slip away home for a few hours while he was being evaluated. He didn’t want to play word games, he wanted to talk to her.

 

The scans weren’t much better. Darkness and confined spaces sent his heart rate and respiration to worrisome levels. They’d had to stop and restart one of the scans because of his elevated vitals, but he’d refused a sedative. He couldn’t tell much of what was happening, beyond knowing he had to hold still while someone took elaborate imaging of his brain; even if he could see it, it would mean nothing to him. At least with the word games, he knew when he  _ knew _ something. 

 

All of it left him exhausted. He’d been so tired the first day that he’d been asleep before they even returned him to his room. There had been no opportunity for further conversation with Leia; he’d barely seen her in drowsy passing and certainly hadn’t been up for processing everything that he’d been missing.

 

When he was pushed back into his room on the second evening, he had company. Chewie, Leia, and the little girl were all waiting for him, whispering amongst themselves. The welcoming roar from Chewie drowned out anything else being said, and the Wookie rushed to embrace him, nearly pulling him out of the chair. 

 

< _ Cub! Leia tells me you’ve been awake and feeling much better. _ >

 

“That’s, ah, well, yeah. It's complicated. But yeah, better. Better than I was.” He frowned, unsure of what Leia had told Chewie, of how much he really understood to tell anyone. At least he still remembered Shriiwook.

 

< _ She tells me you’ve forgotten a few things. You could have chosen better years to forget. _ >

 

“I’ll have to take your word on that, til I get filled in on what’s missing.” He looked to the serene face of Leia and the exuberant face of the girl, restrained by Leia’s arm around her shoulders. 

 

< _ I’ve promised to help with that. _ >

 

Chewie stepped back with a wink, and as he did, the little girl burst free and ran to his chair, slinging her arms around his neck. He was flabbergasted for a moment, then tentatively wrapped his one usable arm around to pat her on the back. He looked up at Leia, hoping she saw how lost he was.

 

“I’m so glad you’re better!” the girl squealed into his neck. Then she released him, bouncing back on her heels, smiling brightly.

 

“He’s not all better, sweetheart, take it easy, all right? His wrist and leg are still healing. And just because he’s awake doesn’t mean his head is back to normal just yet, so inside voice, please.”

 

He looked between the two of them, down at Leia’s hand resting on the girl’s shoulder, then quickly to Chewie.

 

< _ Why don’t I take her to get a snack _ ?> Chewie offered, reaching out a paw for the girl. She took it without hesitation, smiling up at the Wookie.

 

“Can I have ice cream?” Han heard her asking as they headed out the door. She could understand Shriiwook, too. That was good, definitely a good sign.

 

Then he turned his gaze back to Leia, now leaning against the edge of his hospital bed. She was biting her lower lip, looking anxious. 

 

“Should you be laying down? Back in bed? Let me go get an orderly--” She was already moving, heading for the door.

 

“Leia.” He was glad the rasp of his voice stopped her, because he wasn’t sure he had the energy left to reach out to her. “I’d like to lay down, but it can wait a minute.”

 

She nodded and resumed resting against the bed, looking as terrified as he felt. “You have a lot of questions, I imagine.”

 

“One big one right now.” He tilted his head towards the door. “Our daughter?”

 

The hint of a hopeful smile returned to her face then. “Yes. Jaina.”

 

“After my ma.” He returned her smile, reflected it back even brighter and surer. His daughter, named for his mother, who understood Shriiwook and apparently liked to draw. He might not remember, but he was learning something, something good.

 

“Yes. She’s been here with me sometimes. I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed…” she laughed lightly as she gestured at the graffiti on his cast. 

 

“She was doin’ it one time when I woke up a couple minutes. In here all by herself.”

 

Nodding, she smiled sheepishly. “She told me she talked to you, but I wasn’t sure if you’d remember. I had just stepped out for tea. I didn’t realize...”

 

“‘S okay. I thought--she has your eyes. But the time was all confused.”

 

“I’m sure it is confusing. Jaina is six. Um, she likes pink. Desperately wanted a pittin for her birthday, but we told her she has to wait until she turns seven for a pet bigger than a fish. Smart. Wants to be either a pilot or a zoologist.” She shrugged, smile wavering as she struggled to explain their daughter. “She’s missed you. I haven’t told her about your memory but she knows you hurt your head in the crash.”

 

“So defer to you if she asks about the pittin?” She laughed a little more, smile resting easier on her face. “Do I mostly do that anyway? I dunno….”

 

“No, actually,” she shook her head and stepped forward to kiss his temple gently. “You’re an excellent father. Truly. I think that you actually spend more time with her than I do, given my work schedule.”

 

“Work. Aren’t you--is there still--what?” The pieces swirled through his mind like a cyclone--they lived on Chandrila, with a child. Openly, under their real names. She had a job. Did he have a job? Surely he had a job. What had happened?

 

“Why don’t I start with a brief history for you, since the carbonite is the last thing you remember. You were in the carbonite for six months before we rescued you. Shortly after that, the second Death Star was destroyed and both the Emperor and Darth Vader were killed.” She paused there, nodding at the incredulous look on his face, as if promising more later on that count. He definitely had follow up questions about  _ that _ , too many to even know where to start.

 

“We spent a few years neutralizing various other Imperial factions throughout the galaxy. In the middle of doing that, we got married. Since then, we’ve had a daughter. The galaxy has stabilized, somewhat. We’ve both been working for the new Republic government. I’m the Secretary of State. You’re a General, working primarily in special forces training.”

 

He had about nine years worth of questions, as even the mere outline of what he’d missed was overwhelming. He  _ liked _ the idea of a life with Leia, of building a family with her—this life she was describing was more than he’d ever allowed himself to hope for in his life. And he was thrilled it wasn’t under the Empire, or in hiding with the Rebellion. But a lifetime’s worth of history had happened in what currently felt like a brief span of nothingness to him, and it was nearly incomprehensible.

 

“I think--maybe I should lay back down. Today’s been….” He looked at her, wanting to understand, wanting her to understand everything he couldn’t quite process himself in the moment. It didn’t just feel like the room was spinning, it felt like his whole world was whirling off its axis.

 

“Of course. It’s been a lot today.” 

 

She hestiated before leaning down again and brushing her lips across his, so lightly he wouldn’t have felt it if he hadn’t known she was kissing him. Had she kissed him like this while he was asleep, like a prince in a fairy story hoping to wake him? He summoned the last of his energy to lean his head forward just a bit to meet her with something more substantial.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I know.” Her hand tangled through his hair, thumb tracing along the edge of the bandage on his head. 

 

“Bespin feels like yesterday, but it also feels like I’ve been gone so long. That I missed a life.”

 

“I’m sure it does. And we’ve hit you with everything all at once today. Get some rest, let the doctors look over today’s tests, and we’ll figure it out.”

 

“We always do.” He remembered that much at least, that he could put his faith in her, because things always worked out when they worked together. He kissed her again, once.

 

*

 

The test results brought few answers. Though the swelling had diminished, there was still a healing skull fracture as well as bruising, a potential cause of the memory loss. Cognition tests showed his short term memory was in good working order, and he sharply remembered the brief history Leia had given him the day before.Victory, marriage, daughter. All good with him, if only he could remember the finer points of how he’d gotten there.

 

Dr. Bruenig stood at the foot of the bed, datapad in hand, as she presented the test results to them. 

 

“I think the best course of treatment is to deal with the physical first. We know we can heal that with bacta immersion. I’m sure that's not what you’d like to hear, but physical restoration will only assist in your mental healing.”

 

“No, s’not what I’d like, but I get it. And no offense to the kid’s art, but man, this cast itches. So if we can get if off faster that’s...sure. Yeah.” He nodded, then shrugged. Bacta treatments were awful, and he’d experienced several pretty painful, slow healing experiences in the past just to avoid undergoing it. But now, now he at least wanted his body healed, if his mind could not be.

 

“Excellent. We’ll start with an eight hour treatment, which I do believe should heal most of your physical issues. Odds are also good it will also eliminate most or even all of the cerebral bruising.”

 

He remained quiet and looked over at Leia. She looked thoughtful, biting her lower lip and nodding subtly.

 

“You think healing his brain will aid with his memory as well.” Leia’s words were a statement, not a question.

 

The doctor nodded, too, even smiled a bit. “There are no guarantees, especially with brain injuries. They can be tricky. But I am hopeful.”

 

“You would do it today?” The idea left him hopeful, too. If there was any chance he could remember, he would be happy to undertake whatever treatment he was being offered. Or, it occurred to him, that he might be physically healed enough to go home. Maybe that would help, too. 

 

“You would undergo bacta treatment today, then another round of cranial scans and cognitive assessment in the morning.” Bruenig made a few notes in his chart, and tapped the stylus on the edge of it as she raised a brow, waiting for his agreement. 

 

“Yeah. Yes, okay, that sounds okay. Right?” He looked to Leia.

 

“Yes, I think it sounds okay.” She took his hand, squeezed once.

 

“Then I’ll go make arrangements. We should have you heading down to treatment within the hour.” Bruenig looked pleased, and gave a little nod before she headed for the door.

 

Leia came along with him to the bacta treatment chamber, staying right at his side as they prepared him for treatment. The cast was removed from his leg, and the splint from his wrist and the bandages from his head; he squeezed her hand tightly as bone knitters were injected into his ribs and thigh. There as so much to heal, but both of them just looked hopefully at one another as the nurses went about their preparations. 

 

Once again she was the last thing he remembered as he closed his eyes, but this time as he was sedated into unconsciousness for immersion therapy. This time, she looked happy and was holding his hand as he slipped under. She would be here when he awakened again, feeling better, he was certain.


	6. Chapter 5

The sedation for bacta immersion treatment left him groggy and nauseous, so though he was out of treatment by early evening, he remained in twilight sleep as he was returned to his room. He had no memory of the immersion—which, really, was the desirable way to undergo bacta treatment—and little memory of returning to his room. He felt vaguely  _ better _ , less achy and painfully aware of every move of his body. The casts and the bandages were gone, and he was able to move his limbs freely and without pain.

 

That lack of pain led to a good night's sleep, true rest, not just healing unconsciousness, for the first time since he’d regained awareness. He had never thought of himself as a person who experienced particularly vivid dreams, at least that he could recall. But that night he dreamed, clearly, lucidly. 

 

_ He was by a fire, in a forest of tall dark trees, as high as those on Kashyyyk. And Chewie was there, too. But it wasn’t Kashyyyk, Wookies would never build bonfires like these so close to their homes. It was a party, celebratory, dancing with Leia and drinking with Luke and Lando and Wedge, and all the people he knew from the Rebellion, and dozens of people he didn’t. And beings he’d never seen before, almost like small Wookies, the size of Chewie’s son the first time he’d seen him. They were even rowdier than the Rebels, and that was saying something. They were procuring more drinks and more food and playing music and he was twirling Leia around in the glowing firelight. _

 

_ Golden morning light shone through wide windows, filled a sunny yellow room. He was sitting on the floor with a little girl, with  _ Jaina _ , and a few stuffed creatures in vivid colors, all wearing pink paper crowns. There were tiny teacups with something bright magenta in them, real baked treats iced in elaborate whorls, and he was enjoying this. She giggled as he fumbled with the too-small handle of the cup, getting his index finger stuck in it and dumping the garish pink liquid all over his shirt. _

 

_ He was drinking swill while hanging around in that awful cantina on Mos Eisley where he’d picked up Luke and his life had taken a turn he’d never expected. Wandering through Mos Eisley again, the clamor and the sounds and the sand sand sand everywhere, dusting his boots and yellowing his shirts and clogging up any mechanical part that wasn’t regularly cleaned. Jabba was waiting for him at the spaceport, trying to shake him down for credits he didn’t have. _

 

_ Jabba’s voice, not far away, laughing, that awful, disgusting laugh. Taunting, sentenced him to death, him and Luke. Leia was there, next to him then not, sounding distressed. He could hear a fight around him, shots fired, but everything was dark, then bright, and he couldn’t see anything happening. _

 

_ The afternoon sun was bright and the air was warm and salty as Leia stretched out beside him on a blanket, her beautiful hair twisted into one long wet braid and sand on her skin and not much else covering her body. The only sound was the breeze in long dune grasses and the rhythmic crashing of waves fifty meters away. The only other living things he could see were some seabirds whirling overhead. They were both relaxed and happy and a little sunburned, and he’d never felt better. _

 

He dreamt and remembered, fragments of his life floating to the surface. There wasn’t any context, no true comprehension, and he couldn’t recall any information about time or place. But he knew he’d had these experiences, he’d had this life of fire fights and tea parties and lazy afternoons with his love. He would reconnect them, make them all part of his life again, somehow.

 

*

 

When he woke, she was beside him again, wearing more clothing and more elaborate hair than in his dream, but looking hopeful, and maybe it was  _ now _ that he’d never felt better. His wife, sitting there by the bed. She had a cup of kaffe in one hand and a datapad in her other, looking ready to settle in as long as it took for him to awaken, but the smile was immediate when she realized he was watching her.

 

“Morning.”

 

“Morning. Got a cup of that for me?”

 

“Not yet, sorry. Caffeine can affect cognition, so none until you’re medically cleared. Doctor’s orders, not mine--I know how cranky you can get without it.” 

 

“I’m not cranky, I just like to start the day right. That means kaffe. Though I can make a few other suggestions on how to best start the day, now that I’m feeling all healed up.” He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes just a little, still smiling.

 

“You do  _ sound _ like you’re feeling back to your old self.” She took a long, slow sip from her mug--she had to be teasing, gloating just a little, as the scent wafted towards him.

 

“Leg’s a lot better. Wrist too.” He held up his arm, rotated his hand around. “Head’s a little better, I guess. No more headache, but weird dreams. Real vivid. Might be some memories coming back?”

 

“Oh?” She said so little but asked so much, her face remaining diplomatically blank.

 

“I dunno. I think maybe they were memories. One of ‘em was, from back in Mos Eisley when I picked up Luke and the old man. But then there was other stuff….” He shrugged, waved the newly healed, unbandaged hand.

 

“Tell me. Maybe I can help you figure them out.” She leaned forward, ran a hand over his thigh soothingly. Or maybe she was teasing him here too, just a little for his earlier comment; he definitely remembered her sense of humor, and his body remembered her touch even if he wasn’t truly ready to respond to it yet.

 

Nodding slowly, he tried to recall the details. “We were on a beach somewhere? Alone?”

 

She smiled. “We spent part of our honeymoon at a private beach resort.”

 

“Okay, so probably a memory. Nice of that one to come back. Uh, less good--you and Luke and Jabba? It was all kinda confusing. Dark and light, a lotta noise but not a lot I could see happening?”

 

“You clearly remember the carbon freezing.” She met his eye and he nodded. “Boba Fett took you to Jabba’s palace on Tatooine, eventually. Luke, Chewie, and Lando all helped me rescue you, six months after Bespin. Hibernation sickness affected your vision, and you were blind through most of it, until we could get you back to the Falcon--”

 

Her story was cut short at Dr. Bruenig entered the room, an associate trailing behind. “Good morning, Han! You’re looking better today.”

 

“Yeah, feelin’ a lot better.”

 

“Physically, mentally?” she queried gently. 

 

He waggled his head. “Physically, definitely. Feel like I could get up and walk around okay. Probably even fly in a pinch.”

 

“Absolutely no flying post brain injury until you’re fully cleared. Once all physical symptoms have ceased, that will be at least another month, given the extent of your injury.” Her voice was stern, but she smiled. “Mentally?”

 

“Uh, well, I had some dreams last night that Leia says were memories. But I don’t actually remember stuff happening.”

 

“That’s an encouraging sign, a good start.” Picking up his chart, she made a few notes, then nodded to the assistant. “I’m going to have Dr. Tabaak here take you down for another brain scan, which I’m sure you’re quite tired of. But then he’s also going to do a more thorough physical assessment with our Physio department. If they clear you, we can talk about making arrangements for you to go home.”

 

“So soon?” Leia’s query sounded carefully neutral, and he turned to study her face even as the doctor spoke.

 

“If the scans show the fracture to his skull and bruising to his brain have healed, and the physios clear him as safe to be mobile under his own power, yes. Current thinking is that being home, in a familiar environment, will likely aid with the return of memory.”

 

“That sounds nice.” The smile that came to his face couldn’t be helped--he might not remember home, but he very much liked the  _ idea _ of it. Of being out of this hospital, of being with his family. Even if he couldn’t remember anything of how it came to be, he’d much rather be making new memories there than stuck in this drab med center room.

 

“It sounds very nice.” Leia gave him one of those brilliant smiles she had, the ones he’d only seen on rare occasions.

 

“It wouldn’t be until tomorrow at the earliest, even if he’s cleared today,” cautioned Dr. Bruenig. “But I’m optimistic. You were in good physical shape before the crash, and you’ve been recovering for over two weeks, even before yesterday’s bacta.”

 

“Then let’s get started. I wanna go home.”

 

*

 

He did not enjoy the repeated brain scans, but he submitted happily this time, knowing it might clear him to go home. It seemed to go quicker this time, and were followed by further neurological testing. As he’d told the doctor, while perhaps some memories were coming back in his dreams, he still couldn’t recall events of his life past the carbon freezing. He hoped that Bruenig was right, and going home would help with that. He’d like to step inside his front door and feel like he was returning home. 

 

Once he got put through his paces by the Physios, he realized he was perhaps overestimating his physical recovery. But much of it felt like the ache of unused joints and muscles, and while he struggled with a few of the tasks they gave him, he managed to power through on grit and determination--it was far from the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do. And being released from the medical center was a powerful motivating factor. Ultimately, they cleared him easily as safe to be independently mobile.

 

Chewie was waiting for him when he returned to his room.

 

_ <Walking again, I see.> _

 

“Yeah. Barely.” He sat down heavily on the bed, and took several deep breaths. The physical evaluation had really worn him out.  

 

_ <I’ve seen you looking worse. This is good, you might be going home.> _

 

He shrugged. “Think so. But not til tomorrow. And I still don’t remember anything. I like the idea of going home, but I don’t remember it.”

 

_ <It’s nice. Spacious enough that it feels big even to a Wookie.> _

 

“It’s not up in some tree, is it?” He quirked a brow at Chewie, and the Wookie laughed.

 

_ <Up in an apartment tower. There’s a nice balcony. No big trees, though. Just little ones in pots.> _

 

“I have trees in pots?”

 

_ <They’re Leia’s trees. I’m pretty sure all the nice things are Leia’s.> _

 

He laughed then, knowing nothing of his home but knowing absolutely that it was true. “Yeah, pal, I’m sure they all are.”

 

So he was in a jovial mood when Bruenig and Tabaak came in. He didn’t even have to ask, when he saw Bruenig’s face. But then he felt bad that Leia was not here to hear the news, too.

 

“I’m good to go?”

 

“You’ll be good to go tomorrow morning. I believe Leia is coming back later this evening, and we can coordinate the release details.”

 

“Will I have to keep coming back here? For--treatment or whatever?”

 

“That’s something else we’ll have to discuss. It’s the end of the work week tomorrow, which means you’ll have a few days at home to get settled in and see how you feel there, what memories it triggers. Initially, I’d say you should have an appointment at my office early next week, to touch base and see how you’re progressing.”

 

He wanted to ask what happened if there was no progress, if he couldn’t remember more than fragments of the past decade. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, not in front of Chewie, not out loud in front of anyone. 

 

“Okay. Leia’s coming back tonight, right? What time is it anyway?”

 

_ <1548\. She’ll be here at 1730 after she picks up your little one.> _ Chewie nodded and bared his teeth in a smile.

 

Bruenig stared at Chewie, comfortable enough with his presence not to be frightened but obviously uncomprehending. “He’ll be with you until she returns, I assume? I’ll stop back by at the end of my shift to speak with both you and Leia and formulate a release schedule for tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great, doc.”


	7. Chapter 6

Chewie had been understating his family residence when he’d referred to it as an apartment tower, Han decided immediately upon seeing it. The building was enormous and elegant and overlooked a quiet, forested park just off the main street of diplomatic residences. He gazed up at it for a moment as he stepped out of their speeder’s passenger seat and Leia’s arm found his waist.

 

“Welcome home.”

 

“This is more than I expected.”

 

“It’s more than either of us wanted, initially. But as I recall you were pretty thrilled with all the space to run and hide in when we had four six-year-olds spending the night two months ago.”

 

Turning away from the building, he looked at her, slack-jawed and eyes wide. “I’ve faced crime lords and Imperials. Was I really undone by a bunch of little girls?”

 

Laughing, she led him through the lobby towards the lifts. “I think it was mostly their attempts to paint your fingernails Flaming Fuschia that terrified you. I let them paint mine instead.”

 

As they entered the lift, he turned to look at her. “We let our six-year-old wear nail polish?”

 

“Well, your good parenting instincts are still intact even if your memory isn’t. No, this was a special treat for her birthday party.”

 

He was thoughtful as they ascended a few floors. “That seems okay then. Right? Am I good with the rules stuff?”

 

“Shockingly, yes,” she said with a laugh. “You have stricter expectations of her behavior than the Alderaanian court had for me.”

 

“But look how you turned out, all rebellious and overthrowing governments.” Winking, he prodded her a bit with his elbow. This felt good, natural, the way he remembered wanting things to be between them, one day. As apparently it was between them, now.

 

She was laughing as the lift doors opened with a gentle ping. The 47th floor, he noted. That was probably an important thing to remember. It was fresh in his mind and would stay there now, he was sure.

 

There were only two doors upon exiting the lift, one immediately to the left, the other straight ahead. Leia pointed to the door directly down a short hallway.

 

“Unit 47B.” There was a simple brass number beside the door, no other ornamentation or announcement of the inhabitants. She gestured to the scanner by the door.

 

With only a brief hesitation, he placed his palm on the reader and the door slid open. He took precisely two steps inside before he was greeted with a dervish of braids and pink wrapping itself around him.

 

“Daddy! You’re home!”

 

“Jaina, what did we discuss this morning before I left?” Leia’s words were serious but her tone was warm, almost laughing.

 

The little girl eased up her embrace just a little. “Take it easy, he’s still broken.”

 

He wrapped an arm around her before she could move too far. “Not too easy though, kiddo.” 

 

She eased up on him a little more, and looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Kiddo?”

 

“‘S’that not..?” He looked confusedly between the girl and Leia.

 

Jaina poked one finger at him, in a very familiar fashion. “That’s Uncle Luke!”

 

He could only laugh and shake his head. So some things hadn’t changed.

 

Leia put her hand on Jaina’s shoulder and directed them all through the foyer and into a living room that was perhaps the brightest and sunniest room he’d ever been in. One wall was practically all glassine, with wide doors opening out onto the big balcony Chewie had mentioned—and on which he was now sitting, eating something out of an enormous bowl. There were  _ multiple _ small trees in pots, a few clipped  ornamentally into spirals and spheres, others fruiting with neon bright citrus. A fresh, cool breeze and the Wookiee’s roar of greeting carried in through the open doors.

 

Han looked around in awe for a moment, returning Chewie’s greeting with a little wave before turning back to the room itself. It immediately felt homey, if not quite familiar. The furniture looked comfortable, and he happily sank down onto the pale grey couch and confirmed its comfort, and noted Leia’s half-hearted glare when he propped his feet up on the dark wood kaffe table. There were several other chairs, one decidedly kid-sized and facing the large holo screen. The art all reminded him of Alderaanian pieces he’d seen, a moss painting and mountainous landscapes and elegant modern abstraction. One even looked vaguely like it might be a piece he’d found on a run to Axxon years ago now, and brought back to Hoth for her. He squinted at it from his place on the couch.

 

“Are you all right? You don’t have a headache do you?” Leia sank down on the couch close to him, looking as if she was restraining herself from checking his temperature and pulse. One hand rested at his wrist, thumb brushing the back of his hand.

 

He blinked, then swallowed, looking around the room, his eyes falling on the little girl still watching him. “Yeah. Just...this is nice. I like it. I just don’t—“

 

“Right.” She exhaled loudly. “Jaina, sweetheart, will you come sit with us for just a minute?”

 

Bouncing over to the couch, she wedged herself in between them, as Leia shifted over to make room for her.

 

“Since your dad hurt his head, he’s been having trouble remembering things. So we have to be extra helpful and remind him about things. Can you help with that?”

 

She nodded very solemnly, initially looking at Leia but eventually turning to stare at Han.

 

“You remember me and Mama though, right? You wouldn’t forget us?”

 

“Yeah. Of course I do.” It wasn’t really a lie; he’d remembered something about her in that dream, didn’t think it possible to forget her now. And he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, or let her think he wouldn’t  _ want _ to remember her.

 

He never would have imagined he’d be so delighted to end up tumbling into domestic bliss.

 

“I don’t remember where everything is, though. Can you give me a tour?”

 

“Yes!” She bounced back off of the couch and held out her hand to him. He took it in his own newly healed one, and let her guide him out of the living room.

 

*

 

Leia watched him go off with Jaina for a while, then she went to out on the balcony to chat with Chewie. He’d been such a blessing in the last few weeks, spending the time she couldn’t at the med center, keeping an eye on Jaina when she needed help, commiserating with her worry and fear and love. He’d always been there, been a part of their family, and she thanked him the only way she could think of--with a massive hug, though her arms didn’t come close to fully embracing him. 

 

“Thank you for everything.”

 

_ <It’s my pleasure to help. You are family, we help each other.> _

 

“I don’t know how we’d have survived to this point without you, Chewie.”

 

_ <I don’t either. He’s very good at getting into trouble. But he’s home now, he can’t get into too much trouble here. We can all relax for a little while, until he heals up enough to get into more trouble.> _ He carried the now-empty soup bowl back inside to the kitchen, and she walked with him.

 

“I’m very much looking forward to relaxing. I feel like I haven’t slept since the crash.”

 

He washed out the bowl and put it up to dry, before turning back to her.

 

_ <Then I’ll leave you all to settle back in and get some rest. Being home will be good for him, and for all of you.> _

 

“Hopefully you’re right.”

 

Chewie said a quiet goodbye, too, as they made their way towards the front door. 

 

_ <Let me know if you need anything.> _

 

“I will, thank you again, Chewie.”

 

_ <I’ll stop by tomorrow, maybe take him down to the Falcon in a few days, if he’s feeling up to it.> _

 

“That would be good for him, I think. At lunch?”

 

_ <I’ll make something for all of us. See you tomorrow.> _

 

After locking the door behind him, she wandered back down the hallway, listening for her family. It was eerily quiet; that was never usual in the Solo household. She stopped in the master bedroom just long enough to change into slippers, and determine that the tour hadn’t progressed that far. He’d had nothing to bring home; in fact, she’d had to bring clothes from home for him that morning. It had felt like a major success just having him back in bloodstripes and a careworn white shirt rather than a hospital robe.

 

Back down the hall, she paused at the half-ajar door to Jaina’s room. The echo of her soft prattle carried out to the hall, but she didn’t hear Han. She tapped the door once, then pushed the it open and joined them. They both looked up at her from where they sat facing one another in rosy pink cloud chairs; Han looked rather too large for the child-sized seat, but he’d always liked sitting in them and had threatened more than once to buy an adult-sized version for the living room so he could sit in it while watching smashball. He was sprawled in this one, sabacc cards resting face-down on his thigh as he smiled at their daughter--even if he couldn’t  _ remember  _ fatherhood, he seemed to be taking to it like a Mon Cal to water. Leia beamed at both of them.

 

“You have to wait for the next game, Mama.” Jaina waved her fanned cards in Leia’s general direction, oblivious to their visibility to her opponent.

 

“Who’s winning this one?”

 

“Me! I’ve got 8s, 10s, AND Masters! Daddy only has Commanders.”

 

“Still early, just you wait,” Han teased gently, then asked, “Nines?”

 

The girl frowned, and handed over two cards. He took them, then placed four 9s beside the Commanders arrayed on the floor. 

 

“Commanders and 9s, now!” He winked at Leia as she settled on the bed wordlessly, watching and smiling softly.

 

“Fives?”

 

“Go fish!”

 

Han picked up the top card from the deck. “Nothin. Your turn.” With a shake of his head, he waved his free hand at his daughter. 

 

As the girl studied her cards, tip of her tongue just sticking out between her teeth, Leia broke into their game. “Your tour didn’t get very far.”

 

“She offered me a card came. How could I say no to that?” He shifted in the cloud chair to smirk at her and waggle his cards in her direction, laughter in his voice. “I’ve obviously done a good job raising her.”

 

“Sixes?” Jaina asked hopefully. He handed over one card. “Twos?”

 

“Go fish!”

 

She picked up a card, then laid down her 4s with a triumphant grin.

 

“You two are always playing games.” Waving at the cards arrayed between them, she smiled. “This is actually how you taught her to count. She’s going to be a better card sharp than you.”

 

The girl beamed, then seemed to reconsider. “Can I be a better pilot?”

 

“That’s a mighty big--” Han started, but Leia cut him off.

 

“First you’ll have to learn to pilot. Which won’t happen until you’re sixteen.”

 

Han looked between the two of them, as if sensing this was not the first time this conversation had happened.

 

“But Mama--”

 

“This is not a conversation for today, okay?” Her tone was stern; this was not even the fifth time she’d had this conversation, and it was far too early to even contemplate her child learning to fly. And today was most definitely  _ not _ the day to negotiate on what she’d allow ten years from now. She took a breath and switched tacks. “You had lunch with Chewie before we got home?”

 

“Yes, noodley soup. Threes?”

 

“Go fish.”

 

“Han, do you want some lunch?” She got up, ready to get him something, give him some more time reconnecting with Jaina. It was good to see them together like this again--it did wonders to alleviate her worries.

 

He studied his cards a moment. “Aces? If it’s that spicy duck noodle soup Chewie makes, then yeah, that sounds great.”

 

After taking a card from his daughter and laying down an array of Aces, he stopped her as she was heading out of the room. “Or have you learned to cook?”

 

She laughed a little; did he remember her myriad disasters, or was he merely remembering her marginal ability to reheat ration packs on the way to Bespin? “No, but I can make a sandwich for you without burning down the kitchen.”

 

He looked at her suspiciously. “Did you--”

 

“I’ll go heat us up some soup. If you finish your game, maybe we can eat out on the balcony? Some sun and fresh air would be good for you.” 

 

As she left Jaina’s bedroom, she could feel his eyes still on her. Of all the things, he wouldn’t start clearly remembering their life together with  _ that _ , would he?


	8. Chapter 7

Han sighed contentedly as she settled into bed next to him, rolling onto her side to face him, warm and close. 

 

“Tired?” she rested a hand on his bare chest, thumb tracing over a pink, still-fresh burn scar below his clavicle.

 

Wrapping his arm around her, she let him pull her even closer against him. “Yeah. It’s good though. It feels...familiar and comfortable, even if I’m not sure I remember it or I just like it.”

 

Her hand on his chest stilled above his heart. “Either way, I’m glad. Feeling familiar has to be a good thing.”

 

“Yes.” He kissed the crown of her head. “Little things are starting to seem like I might be remembering. I knew where the bowls were at breakfast. I knew Jaina’s d’orofish was named Grover. I apparently know how to play a whole bunch of complicated board games.” Without much energy and under medical instruction to take it easy, but still wanting to spend as much time with his daughter as possible, they’d moved on from Go Fish to a series of games over the course of the weekend, and he’d seemed to recall the complex gameplay to all of them. By this evening, he’d been feeling much more comfortable in the role of father, and felt like maybe, just  _ maybe _ , some of that was memory and not just decent instincts. 

 

With Leia, it had felt easier. What he remembered as a new, passionate-yet-tentative affair on the way to Bespin had settled into something that he had occasionally let himself hope for during that mad, heady time. Then it had been a distant hope of a maybe someday future, but now it felt as if he’d awakened in the middle of a fantasy come true, one that both of them had carefully refrained from articulating, then. Even the idea of  _ home _ had been too much to express hope for, as they fled across star systems from Imperials and crime syndicates.

 

This felt like a loving household, one that anyone would want to be a part of, whether they remembered how they landed there or not. He desperately wanted to remember every second of how he’d ended up the luckiest man in the galaxy.

 

It was a surprise, albeit a pleasant one, how casually affectionate she was with him at home, stroking his hair, a hand on his shoulder, quick kisses in passing--and their daughter too, hugging and tickling and braiding hair. He loved how casually affectionate he was allowed to be with her, with them both. They’d ventured out once, today, to the park, and it had all been more restrained, more aware of potential public scrutiny, but she still held his hand as they walked, still helped Jaina with some kind of fancy flips on the climbing bars, still sat right against him with his arm around her shoulders as they watched their daughter play.

 

She tilted her head up and captured his lips with a deep kiss that he definitely remembered. 

 

“I think that’s how it happens. You’re not going to suddenly wake up tomorrow and remember everything that happened between Bespin and today. But you’ll start to remember little things without realizing it, like the bowls and the fish. And you can always ask me—I was there for most of it.”

 

He shifted in bed, wanting to both keep her as close as possible and to roll away and not have to look at her. Eventually he settled for turning his face away, staring up at the dark ceiling instead of her sympathetic eyes. “I feel...bad that I can’t remember things I should. Not like what drawer the spoons are in. But the big stuff I can’t believe anyone could forget, like our wedding or her being born.”

 

“Well, you almost missed that last one.” She tapped one finger on his scarred chin, and he rolled onto his side, facing her once more.

 

“I did  _ what _ ?”  _ This _ Han seemed to have it all together, but maybe not as much as he thought. How in all the hells could he almost miss  _ that _ ?!

 

“Well, it was mostly Luke’s fault. He got injured in a landslide trying to dig up Jedi records on Polis Massa, and I was too far along to go help him. So you went—I wanted you to go, asked you to. I was supposed to have three more weeks, but she had other plans. Including a very long labor, luckily for  _ you _ . You made it back with a few hours to spare. On the way back you might have set some kind of record to brag about along with the Kessel run.”

 

“Huh. Two records and a ship crash. Maybe I should retire on my laurels.”

 

“You’ve been threatening to do that for years now. Mostly right after Jaina was born, when you offered to stay home with her. But I think deep down you like getting to brag to all the green recruits. Now you’ve got another story.”

 

“Only if I can remember it.”

 

“I don’t know that accuracy was ever an essential component of your stories.” She laughed, he could feel the vibration of it against him more than hear it. He laughed a little too, but then felt honor bound to defend himself.

 

“Hey now! You flew through an asteroid field with me—“

 

“I think that was when I knew I was either going to marry you or kill you.”

 

“Yeah? When did you decide on the marrying?” His fingers twisted with hers, playing with her wedding band, then bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

 

“You asked me six months after Endor, after you came back from liberating Corellia with a ring.” She twisted it on her finger, as he kissed her hand again.

 

“That’s when you said yes. Did you know before that?” He studied her face, racked his brain, tried to remember asking her, remember any conversations they might have had...he’d have married her on Bespin, if it had occurred to either of them at the time, but knew she wasn’t ready to even think about it then. And he never expected to live long enough to have it matter.

 

She rested her forehead against his shoulder, not looking at him. “I knew the night after Endor.”

 

He nodded; that made sense. “‘Cause we won. You think then we’d have this life?” This was nothing like the Rebellion, hasty bases and terrible food and a sense of transience that was unsettling even for a spacer. 

 

“No, actually, not because we won. Because of a conversation we had, after all the celebrating was over.”

 

Humming his curiosity, he otherwise kept quiet, stroking her hair and back, but waiting. It must have been a hell of a conversation, if she was being so circumspect about it even now. 

 

“The night before the battle, I had a conversation with Luke. He told me that he was my brother. And that he had to leave our mission to go face our father. Vader.” Her fingers dug into his chest lightly, her entire body tense.

 

They were both silent for a long moment, before Han blurted out, “You were crying.”

 

She looked up at him then and almost smiled, ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I was. Do you remember anything else about that night?”

 

He closed his eyes, tried to think. “Holding you while you cried, in the dark. In a forest.”

 

“You were angry—well, frustrated with me, because I couldn’t bear to tell you. You held me anyway, gave me someplace safe to cry. It was just...too much for me to process in the moment. I couldn’t burden someone else with it too, not right before we had a mission to complete so the Death Star could be destroyed.”

 

“There was a party after? I remember that, I remember dancing with you by a bonfire.”

 

“Yes. Then we went back to the Falcon and I told you about our father, Anakin Skywalker, his becoming Vader. And you reacted very much the way you did now--as if it wasn’t any big deal to you. I was  _ devastated _ by it, but you just….” She shrugged against him, kissed him lightly. “Your first question was to ask who our mother was, and wonder how anyone could know who their father is but not their mother.  _ That _ was when I knew I wanted to marry you.”

 

“It’s  _ not _ a big deal. You don’t have any control over who your parents were. Did you ever find out who your mother was?”

 

“Yes. Padme Amidala Naberrie. She was a Queen of Naboo, and later a Senator alongside my fath--alongside Bail Organa.” Even after all this time, it still caught in her throat, the correction, the loss.

 

“He’s still your father,” he interrupted. It wasn’t a question--he knew there would never be any other father to her, whatever biology might say. Knew with certainty that it was still true for her.

 

She nodded and hugged him tighter. “Yes. And I assume his friendship with her is why I went with him when I was born. Luke was sent to Anakin Skywalker’s extended family on Tatooine--they really were his aunt and uncle.”

 

“When did you find all this out?” 

 

“Actually, it’s why Luke was on Polis Massa. Uncovering records of our birth.”

 

“That’s a lot to hit a very pregnant woman with.” He might be a little angry with Luke about that now, hearing it. 

 

“You weren’t too happy with him then, either.  You threatened to banish him from future family holidays.”

 

“Is he still allowed at New Year’s?” Laughing, he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

 

She laughed too, relaxing against him. “Yes. You got so swept up in Jaina being born that you forgot all about being angry with him.”

 

“Jaina’s middle name. It’s Amidala.” That knowledge struck him suddenly, as if some more pieces were finally coming together. They were going to have a lot more conversations like this, if fragments of memory started to coalesce into remembrance.

 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, meeting her eyes, studying her expression. “Did you know about her before? Do other people know, now?”

 

Leia took a deep breath, and nodded sharply. “I knew a little--she was officially struck from the records because of her vocal dissent, but my father told me about a lot of things that were officially struck from the records. She was a key figure in resisting the initial rise of the Empire, would have been a leader of the Rebellion if she’d lived, so he made sure I knew about her. Everyone else does now, too--she’s been restored to her rightful place in history.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” he whispered, tucking back a tendril of her hair. 

 

She nodded slowly, biting her lip, then her forehead came to rest against his collarbone again. “Yes. The information was...released about Luke and me. Reaction was...mixed. It might keep me from ever being Chief of State, but it had to be out there eventually, if we were to be involved in government, and in restoring the Jedi. People had to know who they were trusting.”

 

He didn’t feel the need to ask what more there clearly was to the story in the moment, or to answer that--he trusted her completely, even now, when he might have missed something awful. But somewhere deep down he knew that wasn’t the case, knew that what they had was right and good, and he was the luckiest man in the galaxy. He simply wrapped his arms tight around her and rolled them both, so he was on his back and she was draped across him.

 

“Han! Careful!” Her hands rested against his shoulders as she reared up to gently admonish him.

 

“Nah, I remember this. I remember we both like this.” He rested his hands on her hips lightly, giving her enough freedom to move away if that’s what she really wanted. But she settled back against him, kissing him deeply, deeper than she had since he’d returned to her, since he could remember kissing her on the Falcon before they got to Bespin. She was the same Leia, but different too--more curve to her hips, more strength to her arms, more confidence in her actions, and more love in her eyes. He hadn’t thought that possible, but there it was in front of him, as he blinked and kissed her right back, tongue tangling with hers and moans escaping from one--both--of them as hands roamed one another. 

 

The silky sleep shirt she’d been wearing was gone before either of them realized it had been there, and his hands were on her again, and it all felt familiar, her soft skin, the curve of her waist, the little whimper as his thumb grazed her nipple. He did it again, just to be sure they both remembered, until she crushed herself closer to him, trapping his hand as her lips trapped his. The hand still free roamed around her hip, up her back, tangling in her long loose hair for a moment before sliding down around the curve of her ass, pull her firmly against him with a little twist of his hips.

 

“You’re sure you’re up for this?” Her hands were warm on his cheek, warm on his shoulder, her tongue just grazing the curve of his ear as she whispered to him, teasing, rocking herself against his obvious readiness.

 

“Oh I’m sure.” Just in case of doubt, he rolled his hips up towards her again, and was rewarded with a breathy little moan in his ear. “Don’t you wanna make sure everything’s in working order? Make sure I remember what you like?”

 

She kissed him before trailing her tongue down his neck, teeth grazing lightly across one of his nipples. When he responded with a groan, she smiled sweetly. “Actually, I think since the times you remember doing this, you might have picked up a few new tricks. I should probably check and make sure everything is just as I like it.”

 

“Go right ahead, sweetheart—“

 

He was cut off by her giggles, as she sat up astride him. That was definitely  _ not _ the response he was hoping for in bed with her.

 

“No more ‘sweetheart,’ especially in bed. That’s what we both call Jaina.”

 

“Oh. Oh that’s—“

 

“Yeah.”

 

They both laughed together then, and it felt so good, just holding her close and laughing. After a moment he had to ask, “What do I call you then?” His hands came to rest on her thighs, stroking, higher, higher, not quite where he knew she wanted them. He’d called her everything but her name for years, surely he hadn’t given up on nicknames now.

 

“Princess.” It was hard to tell in the darkness of the bedroom, but she might have been blushing a little. “You’re the only person who still calls me that.” 

 

“Okay,  _ Princess _ . Your royal orders on making sure I’m not forgetting any of your favorite moves?”

 

“Let’s start with less talking and better uses for that big mouth.”

 

He puckered his lips and made kissing noises at her, before she captured them with her own again. He was definitely feeling better, and he was pretty sure he remembered what she liked from his mouth, but if there was something he hadn’t already known, he was certainly interested in learning about it.


	9. Chapter 8

In the morning, Leia rose early to get Jaina to primary school and herself to a Council meeting. She felt guilty leaving Han in Chewie’s care to get to his mid-morning medical appointments, but she had no choice—the Council was voting on final approval of a plan of response to the Wildling Incident. Ultimately only Han and his copilot Winfeth had survived; Ixia had passed away in Chio’s med center. Droct had brought her body back along with those of Ambassador Ravitch and the other gunner, Taya. Winfeth has come back on the transport with Han, but was still in the med center, rehabilitating a spinal injury.  Comparatively, Han had gotten off lightly with a few fractures and some memory issues, and she tried to hold on to her gratitude for that as she stood in her kitchen, pondering the response options as she sipped her kaffe.

 

The Council had received a final military assessment mid-week and options of response had been presented two days later. They’d all had the weekend to consider them, and the choices weighed heavily on her as she watched Han and Jaina eating breakfast. Eventually, she put down her mug and focused on immediate matters at hand.

 

“Five minutes, Jai. You want a starfruit or a citron with your lunch?”

 

“Citron, please.”

 

Leia grabbed two from the chiller, tossing one in her daughter’s lunch bag, and the other in her own bag for later. “Teeth?”

 

Jaina pushed her empty bowl away and marched down the hall.

 

“You don’t have to worry about missing anything. It’s the same damn tests over and over. I’ll be all right with Chewie.” Han picked up the thread of their earlier conversation as if it hadn’t been ten minutes prior. His brain seemed to be working better than ever, in her opinion. Maybe the crash had knocked a few loose wires back in place. She’d certainly seen a good whack fix the Falcon more than once.

 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there. You’ve been there for me plenty.”

 

He tilted his head, studying her over his juice glass. “Yeah? When’d you break your brain?”

 

She chuckled then, before shaking her head and recalling more sobering times, more difficult memories. She’d tried to keep things positive for him so far, and this probably wasn’t the best time to start in to this conversation, but the words slipped from her lips unbidden. “Having Jaina was...complicated. It’s why there’s just Jaina.” 

 

“Oh.” He got that perplexed face men sometimes made when trying to decide if they really wanted to know more about female issues, but was saved from asking her more by the reappearance of the girl herself.

 

“Ready, Mama!”

 

“Excellent.” She dumped the rest of her kaffe down the sink and rinsed out her cup. “I’ll try to make it, but it’s the Council.” Leaning in close, she gave him a quick kiss that he tried to deepen before she could pull away. 

 

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll see you when I see you. But I gotta going to start makin’ a list of things I need to know about.”

 

“That’s fair.” She gave him another quick kiss on the cheek. “I love you.” Enough that she committed herself to reliving all her past with him, good and difficult. He deserved to know everything, if he couldn’t remember it. Her hand ruffled through his already messy hair as she pulled away from him, heading for the front door. 

 

“Love you both.” He gave them a big smile and a little wave, which Jaina returned with enthusiasm, as they left the kitchen and headed out for the day.

 

*

 

The Council spent two unnecessary hours talking in circles about the appropriateness of tactical military response before ultimately voting in favor of it. She had argued in favor of diplomatic outreach first, but only half-heartedly—she knew that with a targeted attack on an ambassadorial shuttle, diplomacy would more than likely fall on unreceptive ears. And it wasn’t truly the response she felt the situation merited.

 

Once the Council had talked itself into a tangle, they got around to voting on the issue. After they decided to vote in favor of military action, the vote for the moderate response option had been nearly unanimous. Three hours gone, she thought, debating a decision that could have been reached in the first 15 minutes if only they’d just taken a cursory vote first.

 

As she headed back to her office, she checked her comm. No messages from Han or Chewie, an hour past the initial test appointment time. She quickly tapped out a message to Chewie to check on their progress; much as she might want to be there, if they were only going to be finishing up when she arrived, there was no shortage of work waiting at her office and she knew her undersecretaries would appreciate a few minutes of her time to update her personally on what they’d been responsible for in her absence. 

 

Heaving a deep sigh, she settled behind her desk and signed off on a few things while she waited for a response from Chewie. It was Han who eventually responded, though, telling her he was finally finished and was heading down to see the Falcon with Chewie. Reassured that he was fine and feeling less guilty over leaving him for the morning, she gave herself an hour to do some work before she would pick up lunch and meet them down at the ship.

 

*

 

_ <Yes, we had that done while you were out on mission and I was away at home. It seemed like a good time for a deep cleaning.> _

 

“Yeah, but look at this! Now we have to repair this!” He poked a finger into a loose panel on the hull. Which, granted, was now a sparkling shade of silver that he couldn’t quite recall the ship ever being before. Had it been clean when he won it off Lando? 

 

_ <That’s an easy fix. We can to it this afternoon if you want. If you still remember how to weld.> _ There was a taunt in his tone, an attempt at jovial camaraderie, but in response Han hit the access panel just a little harder than was necessary.

 

“‘Course I still remember that. Pretty sure I could do that even if I was dead.” He followed the Wookie up the ramp, keeping a critical eye on his ship. This too felt familiar,  _ known _ . Not much had changed on board the ship. Other than it having undergone an intensive acid-cleanse, leaving it looking a far different shade than he recalled it being.

 

The cockpit looked almost exactly as he remembered it, though it looked like all the indicator lights were working and the seats were reupholstered in much nicer leather than they had been before. He dropped into the pilot’s seat easily, and it felt like coming home. Closing his eyes, his fingers instinctively found the controls, familiar as his own body. When he opened them and looked out the viewport, he breathed deeply. It didn’t quite smell the same; it had been cleaned, of course, but there was something else, a little like Leia.

 

“We had some adventures with this old girl, huh.”

 

_ <We did.> _ Chewie sounded cautious, as everyone had seemed to be about his memories. 

 

“Don’t go treatin’ me like I’m sick or something. I already lived through whatever happened, I just can’t remember all of it!” That was frustrating him, though the doctors this morning had been pleased with his progress. He just wanted to have his life back, have the knowledge of how his life had gotten him here.

 

_ <Anything I can help with?> _

 

He sighed and fell back in the seat. “I don’t even know where to start. I think Leia’s maybe tryin’ to only tell me the good stuff. It can’t all be good stuff, right?”

 

_ <It is kind of a sickening amount of good stuff. It would be disgusting if I didn’t like you both so much.> _

 

Both of them were laughing at that when Leia arrived, with carry-out in hand. She surprised him by greeting him with a kiss, then settled into the navigator’s seat.

 

“There’s lunch, whenever you two are done.”

 

Chewie greeted her softly, then made his way to the doorway. < _ I’ve got to go pick up the new wiring we ordered. _ > Ever tactful, he slipped out before either of them could put up a token protest.

“We weren’t doing much yet, just seeing how things are looking. Apparently it got  _ cleaned _ .”

 

“I did notice that.”

 

He peered at her, thoughtful. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

 

She swung from side to side in the chair, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Not exactly.”

 

There was something, tugging at the edge of his mind. “You and Jaina. You were teasing me about it.”

 

Pointing at the sparkling, off-white walls, she elaborated, “Jaina spilled some juice, which you cleaned up. We both noticed the cleaned area was a completely different color than the rest of the ship. We were having a rather spirited discussion about colors until you got offended when we debated whether the walls were  _ tan _ or  _ brown _ .”

 

“Got it cleaned up though, apparently.” They were definitely no longer  _ brown _ .

 

She smiled more broadly and gestured at the interior of the ship.. “This is the best I’ve ever seen the Falcon looking. If it weren’t for the access code, I’d have thought it was a different ship.”

 

Looking around the cockpit, he had to concede her point; it was the best he could remember the ship looking, since the day he won it. It might even look better now. He decided to switch tacks. “Docs cleared me to have kaffe. Said they’re happy with my progress. Remembering something’s better ‘n nothing.”

 

”You're not happy.”

 

“With my memory,” he reassured her hastily.

 

“Right.” She nodded stiffly, and he was worried she wasn’t convinced. 

 

“There so much that I just don’t know. Shit I should know, that I  _ want _ to know. Like what you were saying this morning.”

 

Her chair spun just slightly towards him as she frowned. “Four days ago you didn’t even remember your daughter existed. You are starting to remember things, and Bruenig said it’s going to take time.”

 

“‘S just—frustrating. I’m frustrated.” He toggled a few switches on the console, then gave up and banged lightly on it. Patience had never been his strong suit, and he doubted much had changed on that front.

 

Leia just nodded, and was quiet for a few minutes, letting him stew, letting him have his anger. Eventually, she asked, “Is there something more that you think would help?”

 

Huffing out a sigh, he sat back heavily into the seat, closing his eyes. The nerfhide squeaked softly as he shook his head slowly. They were both quiet for a minute, the only sound on the ship their breathing, then the tap of Leia’s nails against the armrest of her seat.

 

“Is this the worst thing that’s happened to us? Everything just seems too damn good to be true.” He opened his eyes as he tilted his head back down to meet her gaze.

 

“The fact that I’m still negotiating treaties and you’re still training military recruits should indicate that things haven’t been all smooth sailing.”

 

“That’s galaxy scale stuff though. I meant us.” He looked at her, trying to think, trying to see what they might have experienced together over the decade he’d lost. Reaching out, he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

 

“It’s not—not even close. We talked the night before it happened, and then you were back here within a week. You’ve been completely  _ missing _ longer than that. So have I. That was hard. There’s a lot I don’t remember about Jaina’s birth, which I know was hard on both of us, for different reasons.”

 

He studied her face, the sad solemn look on it, the tears just pooling in the edges of her eyes. Maybe he was giving himself over to too much self pity. It wasn’t his usual style, but it was bothering him that he had such a good life that seemed to have just drifted right out of his mind. Hearing her speak, though, made him realize perhaps they’d earned all that good the hard way.

 

“But you’re okay now.”

 

She smiled at him, shaking her head a little. “The fact that you’re even worried about that right now, instead of the millions of other things you could, is why we both are. Why we’ll get through this, too.”

 

With a squeeze of her hand, he tugged her towards him, and she let him pull her into the captain’s seat with him. Her arms went around his shoulders, but she perched carefully, as if she wasn’t sure of settling her full weight onto him. He kissed her, appreciating how much easier it was with the heads nearly level. Lips and hands roamed gently for a few moments, before she pulled back.

 

“Lunch is getting cold.” 

 

He made a dismissive noise, and caught her lips in another kiss, which she returned, before sitting up with a little laugh, disentangling her limbs from his.

 

“Good nutrition will aide in your recovery process. And, frankly, after a morning spent in a Council meeting, I’m starving.”

 

“Well, then.” He helped her to her feet before rising himself, and grabbing the bag of carryout. “Can’t have you getting hangry on me. I got enough wrong with me right now.”

 

“You’ve got plenty right with you now.” She rested a hand on his back as they made their way to the lounge, and it felt like she might just be correct.


	10. Chapter 9

“Are you sure you’re up for this? You had clearance for another month of leave if you wanted it.” Leia leaned against the kitchen island, a glass of wine in hand. It surprised her, his desire to get back to work. He’d usually avoided it as much as possible, at least in an official capacity; it wasn’t that he was lazy, he’d just never appreciated being ordered around, and chafed at military regulations even as he’d made something of a career of it.

 

He poked around in the chiller, pulling out a handful of vegetables and a bottle of ale. The heap of vegetables landed on the cutting board, covering the knife, and he turned his attention to the bottle as he answered her. “I’m just bored. Can’t keep sitting around here all day while you’re at the office and Jai’s at school.”

 

From the living room, the jangly music of Jaina’s favorite cartoon blared, sing-songy voices breaking the serenity of the kitchen. She peered around the corner to where Jaina was sitting on the couch, enthralled, then eased back against the island and took a sip of the wine.

 

“You’ve only been cleared to fly this week.” It was as close as she’d come to admitting she was worried. He’d made incredible progress in his recovery over the last few weeks, and she didn’t want to see him set back by a return to duty. But she also didn’t want him to feel coddled or unwell when he was feeling physically good, as he cleary was. And his memory was improving every day.

 

“‘S just the training simulators next week. Not really any flying beyond real basics for a couple weeks. They’re gonna give me the real green recruits for a while, stick with teaching core skills. I remember all that stuff.”

 

She boosted herself up into one of the stools as he extracted the knife from under the greens, watching. He remembered more than he gave himself credit for, most days. Things had come back slowly at first, in fits and starts of useless information like what flavor cake they bought Jaina for her first birthday and the winning scores of the prior four years of smashball championships. But slowly other things had returned, like vacations and missions and Jaina’s favorite bedtime stories and her favorite wine. She’d come home today to find the bottle on the counter, and had been almost as happy as he’d been; she took another generous sip of it now, savoring, as she watched him chopping.

 

“You’re going up with Chewie this weekend?” That plan was reassuring to her, that he’d first be flying again with the one being who might be protective of him than she was. 

 

He looked at her as if he was expecting here to be unhappy. “Just a coupla hours tomorrow afternoon, if that’s okay?”

 

Though his memory was getting better, he’d been oddly deferential to her since the accident. She wasn’t sure if it was out of confusion about boundaries he didn’t clearly remember and was worried about breaching, or if he thought married life had changed him so much. She missed his confidence, even if she couldn’t begin to express that to him. “You don’t need my permission, Han.”

 

Jaina’s laughter echoed in from the living room.

 

“I still worry….” He tapped the tip of the knife against the cutting board, glancing up briefly at her before returning his eyes to the vegetables. “I remember that we were pretty...collaborative on stuff, I guess. But I still also feel like I don’t have to answer to anybody, and I know that’s wrong. I don’t wanna go running off for the day, leaving you wonderin’ what the hells I'm doing.”

 

“I’m your wife, not your keeper.” She tried to keep her tone light, but a little of her frustration crept in, and she instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I just….”

 

“Yeah.” He frowned down at the diced vegetables, looking as frustrated as she felt. 

 

Maybe she did need to find the words for him, to remind him. She reached out and found his hand, clasping it firmly. “You were always so confident, Han. Even when you had no reason to be.”

 

“I can remember a damn lot of stupid shit I shouldn’t have done.”

 

She couldn’t help smiling then, felt the mood in the kitchen lighten a little. It lightened further at the sound of Jaina’s voice from the living room, singing along with her holo program. “At least you remember it now.” 

 

He laughed then, nodding his head. “True. Maybe I’ll even learn something.”

 

“You have, over the years. And you’re remembering it. You remember more than you realize, Han.” She slid off the stool, leaving her wine behind, and stepped beside him, wrapping an arm around him waist. Automatically, he returned the gesture, dinner preparations abandoned. 

 

“I like what I remember. I don’t wanna fuck it up doin’ something stupid.”

 

With a bit of effort, she stretched up to kiss his cheek, then brushed her lips by his ear. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

 

As she pulled away, he quirked an eyebrow at her and smiled, expectant.

 

“I’ve never had a problem calling you on your stupid shit, and a little brain trauma isn’t going to keep me from doing it now, or in the future as need be.”

 

Guffawing, he swung her up onto the counter, so their faces were level, and kissed her firmly. When her arms went around his neck, he deepened the kiss. Until they were interrupted by Jaina’s voice, calling in from the living room.

 

“I’m  _ huuuuungry _ . Is it dinner time yet?”

 

“Almost,” he yelled back at her. “It’ll be ready when your second episode of Power Pittins is over.”

 

She was smiling at him when he turned back to her. “See, you’re remembering.”

 

“I could’ve done with Power Pittins staying forgotten. That music is an earworm that never goes away.”

 

They were both laughing as he returned to vegetable prep, and she started pulling place settings from the cabinets. 

 

*

 

Everything felt familiar on the Falcon. He’d not forgotten it, the way he’d lost all memory of his family life. Instead, he remembered an older version of the ship, less maintained, less  _ clean _ . Gone were the worn seats and grimy walls, second-hand parts and haphazard wiring. In the time he’d spent on the ship with Chewie over the past weeks, he’d been heartened by condition of the old girl; he could enjoy his ship, not spend all his time on repairs. The leather on the cockpit seats was new and supple, the buttons all illuminated properly, the wires were all correctly color coded. The latest sensor arrays had been installed, with the newest technology. Cabins had replaced shipping compartments, with separate quarters for family and guests, and appropriate, child-safe seating and bunks were evident. There was even a proper galley now, suitable for more than reheating rations and making kaffe, because no kid of his was eating reconstituted food if he could help it. If he hadn’t  _ known _ it was his ship, he might have thought he’d upgraded to a newer, different YT1300.

 

Since he’d first stepped foot back on his ship, he’d been itching to fly her, see if her handling was as improved as the condition was. Given all the new, upgraded equipment, he had high expectations.

 

< _ Ready to go? _ >

 

“I’ve been ready for weeks. Just waitin’ on the clearance.” He settled into the familiar embrace of the pilot’s seat as Chewie sat down in the copilot spot next to him. It felt familiar, well-remembered, known. He recalled his conversation with Leia the day before, and felt the confidence she’d worried about returning, felt the missing pieces of himself coming together. 

 

< _ I can’t believe you waited on medical clearance!> _

 

Han snorted and shook his head as he began the power-up cycle from memory. “Yeah, well, Leia’d’ve noticed. I think the whole crash and memory loss thing freaked her out enough for this year. I’m tryin’ to be on my best behavior.” He didn’t even need to think as he ran through start up procedures; he’d known all of this instinctively, fingers finding buttons and eyes noticing toggle lights.

 

< _ If you’re trying to behave yourself, I’m worried that more than just your memory’s been damaged.> _

 

“Very funny, fuzzball.” The engines fired up, and he smiled at the glorious sound. He was feeling truly himself again. “Any ideas on where we wanna go? Said I’d be back for dinner.”

 

< _ Of course you did.> _  Chewie’s whuffing laugh was loud in the cockpit, and usually contagious, except when it was at his expense, as it was now. < _ You could have brought them along, you know.> _

 

“I could’ve.” He didn’t want them to see, though, if he couldn’t remember how to fly. It was bad enough that he needed Chewie along just in case. Spinning around to the navicomputer, though, he was no longer quite so worried. “Was thinking we might do a real short hop over to Brentaal and bring back some dinner as a surprise. There’s a real Alderaanian place there, right?” 

 

He remembered it, surely he was remembering that right. It was a crazy indulgence, but he recalled making the run as a surprise for Leia more than once. They might have gone there for a special occasion too; he had been in clean pants, and she’d been in something much more revealing than her usual work attire. Remembering that felt as good as the controls under his hands, as good as she’d felt under his hands later that night. 

 

< _ You are sickeningly sweet. _ > Chewie was quiet a beat, then winked at him. < _ But I won’t complain as long as I can get my own order of their seafood skillet.> _

 

“‘Course. Let’s get this old girl off the ground and see how she’s feeling, then.” See how this old guy is feeling at the helm, he thought, but it was all instinct as he called over to ground control for takeoff clearance, and he piloted out of the shipyard as if he hadn’t missed a day. Heading up through the atmosphere he threw in a corkscrew just for fun, and felt the gravity shift rapidly around him as the engines whirred, thrusters powering and easily balancing the ship through the maneuver. The Falcon was feeling better than ever, responding handily. He smiled over at Chewie, who bared his teeth in a return grin.

 

< _ A few easy maneuvers in system first. But then we do have those auxiliary power thrusters you installed before the Wildling trip to test out.> _

 

“Should’ve delayed the trip a few days to test ‘em. I mighta saved myself a whole lot of headaches.”

 

< _ You’d have still gotten into trouble somehow. Probably burnt yourself on the thruster power packs.> _

 

“Better than burns from the shipwreck.” He tapped the new scar on his cheek lightly, before turning his full attention to the controls. “All right, looks like we’re clear to starboard. Wanna fire one of those bad boys up?”

 

Both of them grinned at the hum that filled their ship, and nearly whooped in delight as they swung sharply to the right, distant ships and the moons of Chandrila tumbling away through the view screen.

 

*

 

Maybe, he admitted to himself as he looked down at the repulsor cartload of food he’d dragged back to his front door, he’d gone a touch overboard at the Aldera Taverna. But he couldn’t decide between the seafood skillet and the whole spit-roast fowl, and then they’d had some kind of citrus salad he’d remembered Leia loved, and the cheese fritters Jaina loved, and of course they’d needed some kind of dessert to celebrate his return to flying, and suddenly he’d spent a small fortune, had enough food for half a dozen meals, and was unable to get all the food to his own home unassisted. 

 

Chewie had merely howled with laughter as he’d loaded up the cart, his enormous hairy feet up on the dejarik table on the Falcon as he’d dug into his own seafood skillet—with tentaculoids, unlike the one Han had ordered for the rest of them, because the memory of his daughter shrieking in terror and refusing to eat for nearly two days after seeing the tentacles popped bright and clear into his mind as he was ordering. Shellfish and sausage only in theirs. He could smell it as he wrangled the cart through the door, and his stomach gave a rumble.

 

Leia let out a howl of laughter, too, as he maneuvered the repulsor cart into the kitchen. “Are you planning on feeding your entire squadron on your first day back?”

 

Before she could peer into the bags of food, he swept her up in his arms and swung her around in an embrace, lips finding hers even through their laughter. “No way am I sharing this with anyone but you, and…” he settled her back on the ground and looked around the kitchen to see Jaina jogging in. “You! Plenty here for both of you!” He swept her up in a twirling embrace too, and lifted her up to sit on one of the stools.

 

Then he began pulling out the food. Jaina grabbed one of the cheese fritters immediately, and he pulled the tray of them out of her reach as he handed the bounty over to Leia to plate.

 

“This really is more than we had to feed an army sometimes, you know. What are we going to do with all of this?” She scooped enough of the seafood and rice onto a plate to belie her statement, as nearly half of it had already been heaped onto two plates.

 

“We’ll finish all that off, no problem. ‘Sides, you need a lot of food if you’re celebrating.”

 

“It’s not my birthday,” Jaina declared, very seriously and with some sadness. 

 

“No it’s not sweetheart, but it’s been two months since my accident. And I’m flying again. That’s cause enough to celebrate.”

 

“Cake?” She reached for the bags. “Parties always have cakes.”

 

He stopped her long reach down from where she sat and settled her back onto the seat. “There is citron cake. But only if you eat all of your dinner first.”

 

Jaina nodded solemnly, then grinned as he pulled out the bright yellow cake, iced in glossy white. She hopped off the stool, and practically bolted for the dining room as her parents laughed.

 

“Did you get any wine? Or we can open some of the sparkling Chandrilan. Since we’re celebrating.”

 

“We should definitely open a bottle. I’ll grab it in the way back through.” He swooped in for a quick kiss as he grabbed the plates and took them to the dining room, where their daughter waited impatiently. 

 

“You wanna go get us all utensils and napkins so we can eat, Jai?”

 

She buzzed back to the kitchen as he rummaged through the wine, then returned to the kitchen and rummaged through the chiller, eventually finding the bottle of sparkling wine Leia had referenced. He also found a bottle of fizzy water for Jaina, and carried them all back to the dining room, where Jaina was carefully putting out place settings.  

 

Leia brought in three champagne flutes, which she sat in front of Han before taking the seat at the head of the table. Her smile distracted him for a moment, before he tore his eyes away from her and focused back on the bottle in front of him. With practiced ease, he popped the cork and poured each of them a glass, before cracking open the fizzy water and filling Jaina’s glass, which she took with awe.

 

Lifting her glass with a brilliant smile and a quirked brow, Leia saluted him. “To a return to flight.”

 

He lifted his own glass, and their daughter imitated both of them. “To always returning home.”

 

There was a soft clink as the flutes met, and all the Solos smiled.

 

**

The End

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so very much for coming along for the ride on this, and all the wonderful kudos, comments, and feedback along the way!


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